By Zephyria 
Perhaps it was because he had been eating while walking on eggshells.
Upon returning to his room, Seo Yi-kyung patted his chest. He entered the bathroom and stripped off his clothes. He dipped the sleeves of his shirt into the sink and scrubbed them with both hands, but the green stain would not budge.
“It’s an expensive shirt.”
He should have been more careful…
He had been careless. Although the dressing room contained numerous clothes organized by season, there were only a few that Seo Yi-kyung actually wore. Butler Do had sorted through and informed him of the new arrivals, but Seo Yi-kyung tended to reach for the clothes he was already familiar with.
“I can just fold them up and wear it.”
If he rolled up the ends of the sleeves, it wasn’t noticeable.
Seo Yi-kyung left the shirt in the sink and stepped into the shower booth to adjust the temperature. Perhaps it was because he had gone outside for the first time in a while; unlike his cluttered mind, his entire body grew languid as the warm water touched him.
After finishing his shower, Seo Yi-kyung opened the door while wrapping his wet hair in a towel, and his fingertips recoiled. His eyes met Han Seung-jae’s. He almost closed the door immediately.
Seo Yi-kyung’s heart hammered wildly. However, Han Seung-jae continued walking forward.
‘Why is he already in the room?’
Seo Yi-kyung stepped out, pulling down the towel wrapped around his head. Since he spent so much time alone in this room, he wasn’t used to being with him at this hour. Even though this room was effectively his room, too. It wasn’t as if he were in a place where he wasn’t allowed to be.
The doubt was short-lived. Suddenly, Seo Yi-kyung realized he had no spare clothes to change into. He had come straight up to the room after eating. He had left the shirt he was wearing spread out in the sink to try and remove the stain. The garment was already completely soaked. He couldn’t exactly put it back on and come out.
Seo Yi-kyung shuffled hesitantly toward the door. Han Seung-jae, who had been walking in the opposite direction, looked back. He strode closer and placed his hand against the half-open door. The narrow opening slammed shut in an instant.
“Where are you going?”
His shoulders stiffened at the mid-to-low tone resonating in his ear. Moreover, as the breath spread across his wet nape, the fine hairs stood on end. Holding the handle of the futilely closed door, Seo Yi-kyung looked up.
“I was going to change my clothes.”
“Is that all?”
Seo Yi-kyung blinked. Was he supposed to give some other reason? Or did even this seem like an excuse?
“And here I thought you were avoiding me.”
“…….”
Seo Yi-kyung’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He instinctively swallowed hard.
“There’s… no reason for that.”
“Is that so?”
Actually, there was a part of him that felt that way. He had intended to spend some time in the dressing room drying his hair and changing into pajamas.
A droplet of water from his wet hair brushed past Seo Yi-kyung’s temple and trailed downward. It slid down his slender jaw, seemed to pool in the hollow of his collarbone, and flowed inside his bathrobe every time he swallowed.
Han Seung-jae slowly withdrew the hand that had been pressing against the door. His hand moved toward Seo Yi-kyung’s wet hair. Seo Yi-kyung, who was holding the towel, flinched. As Han Seung-jae rubbed the corner of his wet eye, one of Seo Yi-kyung’s eyelids closed.
Seo Yi-kyung’s face, fitting entirely within the large hand, was small. His rounded nostrils and delicate lips brushed against the lower part of the palm. His soft lips were smooth and moist, dampened by the water.
Han Seung-jae’s hand slid downward. Seo Yi-kyung’s eyelids lifted. He looked fully at Han Seung-jae and parted his lips.
“Seung-jae.”
Unlike before, his atmosphere seemed to have softened slightly. Contrary to Seo Yi-kyung’s anxious inner thoughts, Han Seung-jae’s hand was bold. He traced the Adam’s apple wrapped in his grip and slid his fingers toward the slender shoulder.
“About the painting.”
Han Seung-jae reached inside the bathrobe and caressed the thin shoulder. The shoulder, not yet fully dry, was soft. It felt as if it might break if he applied pressure.
“I think it will take longer than expected, so I’d like you to take something from the painting studio. You can take anything. It doesn’t matter how many you take.”
It might seem like he was being generous, but it wasn’t as if he had painted them anyway.
They were his, but they couldn’t truly be called his.
Even if others didn’t know, Seo Yi-kyung did. It was impossible to produce a painting exactly like his.
“Are you done saying what you wanted to say?”
“……?”
Han Seung-jae covered the back of Seo Yi-kyung’s hand, which was still clinging to the doorknob. The white hand disappeared, hidden by the large hand. Han Seung-jae subtly opened the door. He stepped out through the gap and closed the door behind him.
“…….”
Was he angry? Even so, something felt unsettled. Seo Yi-kyung stared blankly at the closed door. Soon, the door opened again. Startled, Seo Yi-kyung took a step back.
Han Seung-jae held out a set of ironed pajamas. Seo Yi-kyung instinctively reached out with both hands and took them.
“Paint it gradually. There’s plenty of time, right? Would waiting about a year be enough? You should be able to finish it by then.”
Han Seung-jae had certainly never given anyone this much time. However, Seo Yi-kyung was preoccupied with a completely different thought. A year… even if he were given that much time, he couldn’t paint it.
Seo Yi-kyung opened his mouth to answer quickly.
“Why? Do you want me to dress you?”
Seo Yi-kyung’s fingers curled. He gripped the soft pajamas tightly.
“No. I can do that much on my own.”
“Fine. Then, change.”
“…….”
Seo Yi-kyung met the eyes of Han Seung-jae, who was staring intently.
“What are you doing?”
Han Seung-jae urged him, as if telling him to hurry up and untie the robe’s belt. After a moment of hesitation, Seo Yi-kyung spun around and headed for the bathroom. Han Seung-jae murmured behind his back.
“You shook your hips just fine on my cock. What are you being shy for?”
Just before closing the bathroom door, Seo Yi-kyung replied briefly.
“It wasn’t me who…”
As Han Seung-jae’s sharp gaze entangled with his, Seo Yi-kyung spat out the rest of the sentence quickly, almost in a whisper.
“You were the one shaking them, Seung-jae!”
Seo Yi-kyung slammed the bathroom door shut.
* * *
Seo Yi-kyung stood for a moment, gripping the bathroom door tightly with both hands. The surroundings became deathly silent. Then, suddenly, his pounding heart grew so loud it echoed in his ears. He stared at the firmly closed door. Worry rushed in belatedly.
‘He won’t break the door and come in, will he?’
Han Seung-jae was exactly the kind of person who would do such a thing. No, he wouldn’t even need to break the door.
If he simply told him to open it, Seo Yi-kyung would have no choice but to do so. There was no way to avoid him within this house.
Still, it wasn’t as if he had said something wrong. It was a fact that Han Seung-jae had gripped his hips roughly and shaken them indiscriminately.
And yet, his eyes had remained obsessively fixed on his face.
And his lips. Sucking the lower lip, entangling tongues, and every time he tried to pull his head back or withdraw his tongue, he would grip his jaw and chew on the flesh.
Every time that happened, Seo Yi-kyung felt as if he were being devoured.
“…….”
Seo Yi-kyung shook his head vigorously, trying to erase Han Seung-jae’s face from his mind.
Seeing no sign that the door would be forced open, Seo Yi-kyung finally let out a long breath and rubbed his chest. He then fiddled with the robe belt at his waist.
Keeping his eyes fixed on the door warily, Seo Yi-kyung unfolded the pajamas.
“Hah.”
Seo Yi-kyung let out a low groan. What Han Seung-jae had given him was a matching set of top and bottom pajamas.
There’s no underwear. Seo Yi-kyung’s gaze shifted toward the inside of the bathroom.
He moved and examined the clothes he had taken off while washing. The shirt and pants with green paint stains on the sleeves. And then, he slowly reached out and fiddled with the damp, limp drawers.
…Click. Seo Yi-kyung came out wearing the pajamas. He was holding a neatly folded towel in his hand.
The gaze of Han Seung-jae, who was sitting leaning against the headboard of the bed, shifted. For some reason, Seo Yi-kyung’s gait was awkward and waddling.
“Seo Yi-kyung.”
A nonchalant yet low voice spread through the room. Seo Yi-kyung continued walking, pretending not to hear. Han Seung-jae added.
“The thing you left behind.”
The tips of Seo Yi-kyung’s feet, clad in slippers, faltered. He hadn’t been carrying anything, so there was nothing for him to have dropped. However, as if drawn by something, Seo Yi-kyung’s neck turned awkwardly. Han Seung-jae pointed to a pair of black drawers thrown on the bed.
“!”
Seo Yi-kyung’s shoulders spiked in shock. He felt as if Han Seung-jae had personally stripped the underwear off him. No, it felt as if he knew that he wasn’t wearing anything. Seo Yi-kyung curled his fingertips and gripped the towel tightly.
In fact, he had left the drawers he had fiddled with in the bathroom. Since they were damp, it seemed pointless to wear them. Because of that, he was currently wearing the pajamas without any underwear underneath.
Since there were live-in helpers in the house, he had intended to roughly cover his front with the towel and hurry down to the first floor.
He looked at Han Seung-jae, who was leaning casually against the headboard, and then confirmed the black drawers spread out at his feet once more.
His small mind was racing incessantly. In his head, he gauged the distance from where he stood to the bed. If he ran, he felt he could snatch the drawers at Han Seung-jae’s feet. After that, he would have to go back into the bathroom.
A subtle tension vibrated in the room.
Seo Yi-kyung, in his slippers, put strength into his toes. He glanced sideways at Han Seung-jae, who was still leaning firmly against the headboard.
Thud. The towel in his hand fell to the floor. Seo Yi-kyung took a quick step forward.
Seo Yi-kyung reached out with his other hand and grabbed the drawers.
‘Got it!’
At the same time, Han Seung-jae snatched his slender arm.
With only a small amount of force applied, his frail body tilted. Seo Yi-kyung’s face turned pale with shock.
‘Seriously. This body must be made of paper.’